


Star

by AngelynMoon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, How Do I Tag, I'm Sorry, Not A Fix-It, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 08:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelynMoon/pseuds/AngelynMoon
Summary: A reflection on Tony Stark.





	Star

There is a boy, he is young yet but brilliant. A shiny star amidst so much shiny metal. His light reflects off of each piece but he is not looking for attention yet, doesn't know he needs it.

For now he squeals as he races through the empty maze of scattered parts and unfinished projects.

Like him, they are incomplete. Ideas that are still forming, still in development.

Sometimes the boy will pause before one of the half started projects and he'll let it distract him from his lonely game, he'll complete it, give it a childish name and then, as they always are, the boy will forget it, his game finding him again.

For years this boy remains the same, lonely and lost, incomplete.

Then a new idea finds him. A stranger that eyes him and picks him up and dusts him off and tucks him, in all his half finished pieces, beneath his arm.

This stranger sets him upon a road but that's alright because he does not let the boy go along it alone, walking beside him or behind him as the boy runs ahead, catching up when the boy falls, when he stumbles, lifting him up and dusting him off as he has since they met.

Along the road they find a bit of spice, or perhaps it is better said that she finds them. And oh, how the boy loves her, she fills an emptiness that no other could ever hope to.

But the boy, in all his parts, os not ready for her, nor she for him. What does she know of pieces and creation, she does not know what to do with those parts of him and as yet, neither does he.

He is taken away, taken apart, stripped down to his most simplistic parts. There is another stranger, just like him only less, his parts are failing, rusting over and corroding, but he give the boy some of them, teaches him how to rebuild, repurpose and the boy escapes but he escapes mostly alone, the stranger's sacrificed, gifted, parts tacked around his shining heart.

There is more, always more, his pieces hurting, burning, finding others, ideas just like him, all broken and bruised and lost.

He does not know what tondo with them and they don't know what to do with him so in the end they do nothing and go their separate ways.

They come together, half functioning, when necessary but no more.

And then everything shatters and breaks. The ideas are scattered and broken and all that remains is the boy, with all his tiny little broken pieces and the spice that still does not know what to do with them other than love them.

It's enough, has always been enough, he just didn't know it then, wasn't ready to know.

It's enough.

It's not. Space is silent, cruel,bit takes and breaks and does not even allow a scream.

It's not enough.

They lose, dust coats his hands, fills his lungs, covers his skin. 

They lose and he's alone but for the one made of spare parts, more so than him.

It's not enough.

An idea is born, a spicy little idea. She's not a replacement he tells himself, lies to himself. 

She's something new, brilliant, like he once was. He pretends it's enough.

There's dust on his skin, fire lancing up his arm and half his body. His pieces are corroding, rusting and crumbling and his spice is smiling at him and she fades away into darkness.

And the shining boy thinks about his little idea, his spicy little idea, and the other two projects he collected along the way, the child of spare parts that he picked up and he half smiles.

Perhaps he was once a star, shiny and brilliant, but they are a universe.

It's enough.

And like all of the other half finished projects he once ran among the shiny star, the brilliant lost boy in all his scattered, broken pieces is set aside, set adrift to be finished by any who cares enough to notice.

It's enough.

\---

A/n: just a little something i wrote the other day about Tony Stark's journey.

Let me know what you think.


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